Hors d’Ouevres
by Gregg Chamberlain
“Are you serious, Vladislaw? You’re telling me that we have no more ladyfinger treats for our Samhain housewarming party guests?”
“Yes, and don’t blame me, Morbidia. What did you expect was going to happen with so few hands available to work with?”
“Well, what do you suggest we do?”
“Mmm, I guess we could stretch things a bit with what we do have. I’m sure there’s a can of baby shrimp in the pantry, maybe even a tin of New Brunswick oysters too. If I mix those into our Alberta Prairie Oyster and Coldcock Sausage Salad, add some more diced baby carrots, plus a couple scallions and some canned kernel corn, then drizzle the oyster tin juice over everything, we’ll have a nice Surf ‘n’ Turf à la Dahmer.”
“Good idea! If we use the small salad bowls too, it’ll go that much farther for servings. Smaller portions would also mean more Deville’s Spicy Headcheese ‘n’ Crackers snacks to go around, assuming we have enough salsa.”
“I’m pretty sure, my deadly dearheart, that I saw an unopened jar of El Diablito on one of the pantry shelves. We’ve certainly got enough headcheese to go with the habañero cheddar.”
“Yes, we were just so lucky to have those nice young Welcome Wagon people drop by this morning.”
“Well, Morbidia, our horoscope today did say, ‘Be prepared to welcome unexpected visitors.’”
“Indeed, Vlad. There is nothing better than having fresh ingredients. I do so love the way serendipity works sometimes.”
Gregg Chamberlain writes speculative fiction and poetry for fun, zombie filk because he can, and oddball stories and poems just to see what results. He lives in rural Eastern Ontario, Canada, with his missus, Anne, and their cats, who allow the humans the run of the house.
Whisper House Press 
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